


2 am Shopping trip

by seizethosegays



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies live
Genre: 1 am shopping trip?, 2 am shopping trip, M/M, nah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seizethosegays/pseuds/seizethosegays
Summary: Spot needs ice cream and dog treats. That’s all. He just so happened to need them at 2 am when an attractive stranger was singing the bohemian rhapsody in the aisle he needed to be in





	1. Spot And The Stranger

Spot sighed and sat down on the tile floor that was most likely dirty. He just needed to get some treats for the dog and some ice cream because ice cream at 2am sounded really good. But someone was singing the bohemian rhapsody. It wasn’t bad, not at all, Spot was just to tired to deal with drunk shoppers at the moment and unfortunately the shopper was in the aisle Spot needed to get into. 

He sighed and looked at the treats on the floor beside him. Maybe he could just eat dog treats. Couldn’t be that bad, they might actually taste good. The dog always wanted more, so they had to be at least decent, right? Spot didn’t even notice when the shopper in the aisle over stopped singing and entered the aisle he was in.

“Oh, hey there fellow shopper,” the stranger said. Spot looked up. The stranger was taller than he was, lanky, wearing clothes that were too big and baggy, and his hair was a mess. He looked like he just got out of bed. “I hope you liked my rendition of the bohemian rhapsody in the next aisle over at 2am.” Oh, so the stranger wasn’t drunk. Well, at least he didn’t seem like it. 

“Why in the world are you this awake at 2am?” Spot asked, yawning as he did so. He really should get more sleep at night instead of binge watching shows on Netflix. 

“Well, why are you at the store at 2am?” the stranger asked. Spot really didn’t have an answer. Not one that made sense, at least. He could have waited until morning to get ice cream and dog food. “I’m Race, who are you?” 

“You always give your name to strangers?” Spot asked, grabbing the dog treats and standing up. Yep, Race was taller than he was. “I’m Spot.” 

“Well, Spot, you’re getting the wrong dog treats,” he shrugged, putting the basket he was holding in his other hand. “Those can hurt your dog. And, it basically makes them high when they eat them.” 

“Well that’s the only kind he eats, what else am I supposed to get?” usually Spot wouldn’t be talking to strangers at the store, but it was 2am and this stranger seemed interesting. “And how do you know it gets them high?” 

“Because I ate one before,” he shrugged. Spot raised his eyebrows and stared at him for a moment. “Don’t worry, I ate ten for a hundred bucks, it was worth it.” 

“Ok, that makes sense,” the Brooklyn boy nodded his head slowly. “What else am I supposed to buy him?” Race grabbed Spot’s wrist and drug him out of the frozen food aisle, leading him back to the aisle with all the pet treats. Race sat on the floor and pulled Spot down next to him. Race shifted and took the box that Spot was carrying in his arms and put it back on the shelf, giving him a different brand of dog treats. 

“Your dog should like those, they’re better and won’t make your dog high if he accidentally eats many at a time,” Race said, turning his head to look at Spot. He was really close to Spot. He started telling Spot about...something. Spot wasn’t listening, Race was really close and it was distracting. He turned his head to look at Race and accidently hit his nose on Race’s. The taller boy grinned, then he stood up, walking out of the aisle without the basket he had with him. Just seconds later, a redhead entered the aisle and picked up the basket Race had left behind. Spot followed. He wasn’t sure why he was, Race was a stranger who ate dog treats for a hundred bucks. A stranger who sang the bohemian rhapsody in the aisle the ice cream was in at 2am. A very interesting, kinda cute, stranger that Spot didn’t know. Just a stranger who knew what treats to feed the dog. 

“Why are you here anyway?” Spot asked, following Race close behind. 

“I’m with my roommate, he wanted some stuff but I don’t know where he is, so I’m just walking around with you,” Race spun around to face Spot, walking backwards. Race tripped over his own feet. Spot grabbed his wrist and the side of Race’s hoodie, and Race held onto Spot’s wrist and t-shirt so he wouldn’t fall. Race opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by someone yelling at them. 

“When’s the wedding!” someone shouted, and that someone being the redhead that Spot saw take Race’s basket. Race stumbled for a moment before standing up straight and letting go of Spot’s wrist and shirt. 

“Albert, I’m gonna kill ya,” Race said, heading towards the ginger. The redhead started running, and Race ran after him. Before he got to far, Race turned back to look at Spot. “I hope your dog likes the treats! See ya later, Spotty!” 

Spot sighed and went to pay for the dog treats. Okay, maybe, just maybe, strangers singing the bohemian rhapsody at 2am in the frozen food aisle wasn’t all bad. But, he did stop Spot from getting the ice cream. All well, he’d manage without it. 2am shopping trips actually turned out to be amazing.


	2. Chapter 2

Spot got home and greeted his dog, Roger. The pup was jumping and wagging his tail and barking. Spot was sure it was loud enough to wake the neighbors. Good thing he doesn’t live in an apartment anymore. 

He was exhausted. It was three am and he had to work tomorrow morning. The boy needed sleep. 

“Okay I got pajamas, water, Rogers taken his place on the bed,” Spot sighed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them over him. Staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but remember the boy he met. The blond with hair sticking up in a million different directions. He looked like he got electricuted. His clothes were too big for him but it just made him look small. Cheeks tinted pink, words a little jumbled, and that smile. The smile that could get away with anything. The smile that made Spot feel a million times better. 

Smiling, Spot leaned over to get his phone. After a moment of feeling around the table, he discovered it wasn’t there. Frowning, he stood up, waking Roger, and waking to the living room. It wasn’t there. He spent the rest of the night looking for his phone. He couldn’t even call Jack to help!!! Sighing, he looked at the clock above his front door. Fuck work, he’s going to Jack’s. 

Not even an hour later and he’s banging on Jack’s door. 

“Jack I know you’re home I need you to open the door!!” Spot shouted. A moment later a disheveled Davey opened up the door, Jack in tow. 

“What, Spot?” Davey asked, rubbing his eyes. Spot winced. He forgot Davey worked nights. The boy had probably just gotten home. 

“Sorry, Dave. Someone stole my phone,” Spot sighed, letting his arms fall to his side. “Jack I…. can you track it? Please?” 

Nodding, Davey let Spot inside and put on a pot of coffee. Jack pulled out his laptop, asking for Spot’s most basic information. 

Two cups of coffee each and an hour later, Jack had the location of the phone. 

“Jack you’re awesome,” Spot smiled, writing the address on a sticky note. 

“Aww Spot-“

“Jack don’t make me take it back. I will pour coffee on your laptop,” Spot glared at the boy, throwing a pen at him. 

“Get goin Spotty, someone’s got your phone,” Davey left the room, heading back to bed. 

“See ya!!” The boy left, heading down the street. It wasn’t far, quite close actually. An apartment building close by. Didn’t take Spot longer than a minute to get there. 

Three flights of stairs. Three flights of stairs to get to the apartment. He had two cups of coffee and no sleep and he went three god damn flights of stairs. He was exhausted. And probably fired he didn’t show up for work. 

Sighing, he knocked on the door. No answer. He did it again. Once more, no answer. He banged his head on the door before knocking again. 

“I’m up I’m up. Gimme a second,” a voice called. Spot tipped his head back and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Why him. Why today. Why. 

“Sorry for the….. wait,” the door opened and Spot looked at the stranger. It was the same messy blonde hair, enchanting blue eyes, crooked grin. Instead of baggy pajamas, he had on boxers and socks. Socks? Seriously??? “Spot? What are you… hi??” 

“I um.. you.. my phone,” Spot silently cursed himself. He couldn’t make a coherent sentence. The two stared at each other for a while. Spot snapped himself out of it. 

“Racetrack. Hey, Higgins. Earth to Anthony are you listening?” It was then Spot realized that Race’s roommate was standing in the doorway, waving his hand in front of Race. 

“Huh? Oh yeah.. yeah I’m listening,” Race clearly wasn’t listening. 

“You gonna let him in or…” 

“Yeah. Yeah sorry,” Race wiped his hands on his pajama pants and stepped aside “um come on in. Make yourself at home.” Spot stepped inside. 

“You um…. my phone… it’s… yeah,” Spot wanted to smack himself in the face. He could see the redhead stifle a laugh from behind Race. 

“We’ve got it here, dude,” Albert called as he stepped into the kitchen, grabbing the phone off the counter. “I thought Race dropped his so I took it with us. It’s… definitely not Race’s. You’ve got so many messages my dude.” Spot checked his phone. Six phone calls from Kathrine. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, calling her back. “Hey Kath-“ 

“Shaun Conlon where have you been?!!” She shouted, “Medda is worried sick, we’ve been calling you all morning, what the hell!!!”

“Kathrine, calm down. I lost my phone, it’s okay. I’m fine, everything’s fine. I’ll be into work tomorrow,” Spot was not expecting that. He hung up and looked over at Race. His usual smile was a frown. 

“Who’s Kathrine?” Race asked quietly. 

“Ooh your girlfriend?” Albert grinned. 

Spot rolled his eyes, “I’m gay.”

“Oh same,” Albert nodded, “boyfriend?” 

“Nope,” Spot popped the p, looking over at the redhead. Spot had a boyfriend about a year ago. They didn’t work out. “I had one but we broke up a while back.”

“Want one?” The redhead grinned. 

“Where ya goin with this, Al?” Race looked at his roommate with questioning eyes. “Why ya interrogating him?” 

“Yknow I actually haven’t really been lookin for a boyfriend lately, I’ve been busy,” Spot shrugged. 

“Race here’s lookin for one. Tired of seein me and Elm bein all sweet without havin someone to be sweet with,” Albert smirked. Race’s cheeks got red. 

“I am not,” the blond shot back, rolling his eyes in a silent protest. “I mean I am but I’m… not. I have something in mind. Wait what?” 

“Race lemme know when I have to leave I’m goin to bed,” and then… Albert left. 

“Do you always answer the door in your boxers for people you met in the supermarket?” Spot asked, just messin around with Race. 

“Not really,” Race grinned, “just when the hot guy from the market knocks on my door. So… why are you here?”

“Well I came here for my phone but now that I’m here,” Spot bit his bottom lip, “wanna go somewhere together?”

“Wait like as a date?” Race looked shocked. Ecstatic, but shocked. 

“A date.”

“A Date date?”

“Yes a Date date.”

“Like an-“ 

“Anthony Racetrack Higgins he wants to do the gay with you!!” Albert shouted from his room, exhausted and furious. 

“Where ya wanna go?” Race asked, sliding up next to Spot. 

“Wanna go to the supermarket?” Spot asked jokingly, but Race took it seriously. 

“Oh absolutely. But… tomorrow?” the blonde crossed his arms. “No offense, Conlon, but you look exhausted.”

“At least I’m dressed,” Spot pokes Race’s side. 

“Oh please, you know you like it,” Race joked. But really, Spot did. It was nice sight to see. 

“See ya tomorrow?” 

“2 am, Spotty,” Race followed Spot out the door. “Don’t be late. Oh and send me a picture of your dog.”

Spot agreed and headed out, more awake than he’s felt in literal years. He had a date tomorrow.


End file.
